


Hot Chocolate

by Murf1307



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Hot Chocolate, M/M, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 07:33:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murf1307/pseuds/Murf1307
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Ghostfacers have a First Snow of the Year party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Chocolate

“Hey, Corbett,” Ed said, holding the phone in between his cheek and his shoulder as he did the pre-preparation for the best fucking hot chocolate in the history of ever. Corbett might have the market cornered on coffee, but Ed knew his way around hot chocolate like he was born for it. Oh, and he was quite aware of it. “You comin’ over? Harry’s already here, and Spruce is on his way.”

 

“Oh, okay,” Corbett said, and he sounded a little hesitant. “I suppose — I mean, if you’re sure?”

Ed shook his head, almost dropping the phone. “Of course I’m sure. It’s the first snow of the year, and you’re part of the team. Of course you’re invited.”

It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Ed wanted to see Corbett red-cheeked from cold and wrapped up in snow gear. Nope, nothing at all. Ed was not nearly that easy to sway. Team came first. Totally.

“Okay. I’ll — are we going out in the snow?” Corbett asked.

“Yeah. There’s probably going to be snowball fight, so bring your warmest snow clothes, and, uh, try not to wear anything too baggy, because Harry /will/ shove snow down your back or your chest or whatever, and you don’t wanna get frostbite or something.” Ed tried not to flush as he mixed together his particular mix of brands of instant (because that was really the secret, variety).

“I’ll keep that in mind. See you in a few minutes?” Corbett asked.

“Yeah,” Ed said, grinning. “See you.”

He didn’t want to hang up, and, actually, considering he was working with the chocolate right now, he actually couldn’t. So he waited for Corbett to end the call. A moment stretched out too long, and then Corbett said, quietly, “Bye.”

The line went dead before Ed could respond, and he cursed under his breath. That had been awkward.

He finished with the hot chocolate and put each serving in a separate plastic bag, labeling each with someone’s name — Maggie really liked extra peppermint in hers, and Harry preferred his to be a little more coffee-like, and Spruce took his plain. Ed wasn’t sure what Corbett was going to like, but he maybe went a little overboard, making it the richest, chocolatey-est mix he could pull off, considering what he had stocked.

It was a few minutes before Maggie and Harry snuck into the kitchen, as usual. They always wanted to know how he did it, but he refused to let them in on the secrets of his hot chocolate, and they always tried to get it anyway.

“Already done, guys,” he said, smirking and holding up the plastic bags.

“Damnit,” Maggie grumbled. “Foiled again.”

Harry just glared at Ed with no real vitriol and asked, “Corbett coming?”

“Yeah, I got him on the phone. He said he’d be a few minutes. That enough time for you to build the snow fort?” The snow fort was another tradition. The last person to arrive at the snow party got pelted from behind Harry’s enormous, intricately designed snow fort.

There was a very good reason that Harry was the tactical aspect of the team.

“Do you doubt me?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow archly.

“Nope,” Ed said, grinning. “Not at all.”

Harry grinned back, and pulled Maggie out of the house to help him. Ed hoped they didn’t get distracted, because hey, Corbett had never been to the snow party before, and this wasn’t going to be ruined because Harry and Maggie couldn’t keep their tongues out of each others’ mouths for long enough to finish the fort.

Ed slid into his room to change into his best snow gear, and it was a few long moments before he got outside, begloved hands pulling up his scarf to cover his nose.

Maggie and Harry were done, somehow, and making out in the snow.

“Eww, guys,” Ed said, wrinkling his nose. It had taken him a while to be okay with the fact that his best friend and his sister were a couple, but they were pretty obviously great for each other — they’d been together for about six months now, and while they had their fights, they were probably the stablest relationship Ed had ever seen either of them in.

They separated, glaring at him as Spruce pulled into the driveway and came back behind the wall of the snow fort. Which, to be totally honest, looked more like a snow  _barricade._  

Ed had a feeling that he was going to have to place a moratorium on further trips to see  _Les Miserables_  in theatres. Because it was obvious Maggie was only enabling Harry’s French Revolution obsession with this.

“A snow barricade, really?” he asked.

“Shut up. It’s going to work.” Harry glared at him. “Be glad I’m not singing.”

Ed was. He really, really was.

“Hey, hey, he’s coming,” Spruce said, ducking behind the snow barricade and packing a snowball. Ed could hear Corbett’s car coming down the street, and he grinned.

“This is going to be so much fun,” he said. “Ready?”

“Yep.”

“Yep.”

“As ever.”

The four of them readied themselves as they heard Corbett pull into the driveway and turn his car off. There was an interminably long moment of silence, and then the crunch of boots on snow.

That was essentially their cue. It was a sort of every-man-or-Maggie-for-themselves scenario, and Ed found himself on top of the snow barricade somehow, and they all had terrible aim today, because after the first volley, Corbett remained untouched.

Then, a snowball hit Ed square in the face. He toppled over, sliding backward down the snow barricade and coming to a stop hanging upside down.

“Oh my god,” came Corbett’s voice. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

He sounded panicked, and Ed was still a little dumbfounded by the snowball attack, so he wound up just making a couple of fish faces as Maggie assured Corbett that he was all right.

“Hey, you kind of look like Enjolras like that,” Harry pointed out, and Ed couldn’t bite back his groan.

Maggie elbowed Harry in the side. “Not everything exists to feed your Les Mis fetish, Harry,” she said, then waved Corbett over.

Corbett moved slowly into view, and Ed grinned up at him. “Good one.”

“I wasn’t aiming for your face.”

“Still, that was good,” he assured, trying to sit up and failing. He flopped back against the snow barricade and frowned. “I don’t know how I’m getting down, though.”

Corbett’s face went bright red. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” Ed said, grinning. “It’s pretty ridiculous. Spruce is probably filming it.”

“Guilty,” Spruce said.

Corbett flushed even darker. Harry was humming something, and Ed probably was going to kill him before the day was over, but he needed to get down first.

“Let me, um,” Corbett said, stepping a little closer to Ed. “Let me help?”

“Sure,” Ed replied, smiling up at him.

Corbett’s hands slipped under his shoulders and then under his arms, and then he pushed Ed up. After a longish moment, Ed was sitting upright on the snow barricade, Corbett’s chest pressed against his back, and it was a little unnerving for the moment before Corbett pulled away.

Ed slid down the front of the snow barricade and got back on his feet. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Corbett said, a smile finally pulling at his face.

“We always attack the last person to show up for the snow party,” Ed explained, coming around the snow barricade, grinning as well. “Kinda lucky it was you this time.”

“Like an initiation, yeah,” Harry said, but there was something sly about his smile right now.

He was obviously plotting something, and Ed wasn’t sure he wanted to know what that something was. It was bound to bode ill for everyone involved — the last time Ed had seen that look on his best friend’s face, Ed had wound up on a disastrous double date with one of Maggie’s friends. It had truly been awful.

“Oh, okay,” Corbett said. He was quiet for a moment. “What now?”

“Snowball fight!” Maggie grinned. “We split up into teams, and then just start firing off snowballs at each other until one team’s members can’t take it anymore.”

“Shotty Maggie and Spruce,” Harry almost sing-songed.

Ed glared at him, feeling a little awkward about only having Corbett on his team, but Corbett seemed to have beginner’s luck on his side, so…

“Shotty the barricade!” Ed responded, pulling Corbett a little closer to the monumental snow-structure.

“You suck!” Harry replied, but the rules of Shotgun always reigned supreme, so he subsided with a grumble. He lead Maggie and Spruce away to take care of business in terms of their strategy, and Ed motioned for Corbett to sit down with him behind the barricade.

“Do you have an actual plan?” Corbett asked, looking a little bewildered.

“Nope,” Ed replied, knowing that that probably didn’t help the situation at all. “But Harry’s going to take ages to plan every aspect of his attack, so we’ve got some time.”

Corbett nodded.  “Okay.  So, what’s Harry most likely to do?”

They spent the next fifteen minutes planning their strategy, and then they heard Harry’s team approaching.  Harry was humming again, and Ed picked out his position from that even with the snow muffling the sound.

Signaling to Corbett, he surged up over the barricade, Corbett covering him, and pegged Harry right in the face.

And so the battle was joined.

About half an hour in, the barricade had been abandoned, and they were simply throwing snowballs at each other.  Spruce had given in, and had retreated to the porch, which left the teams even for the moment.

It would have gone on like that, too, if Harry hadn’t somehow managed to trip Ed, sending him careening into Corbett.  They collapsed in a pile of limbs, tangled up and entirely too close to each other for comfort.

“Hi,” Ed said, maybe a little too quietly.

“H-hi.”  Ed had to be imagining the hitch in Corbett’s breath, he had to be.

They looked at each other for a moment before Ed rolled off of Corbett and moved to help him up.  Corbett stood, but winced when he tried to put weight on his right ankle.

“Oh shit,” Ed said, eyes widening.  “Corbett, are you okay?”

“I think I twisted it when we fell,” Corbett mumbled.  “I’m sorry.”

Ed shook his head sharply.  “No — this was not your fault.  Harry knocked into me, and I knocked into you.  If this is anybody’s fault, it’s his.”  To prove his point, he turned his head to give Harry the worst glare he had. 

There were going to be  _words_  later.

Corbett flushed.  “Still — I don’t think I can be of much use to you like this,” he murmured.

“Hey, hey — if you’re injured, you’re injured.”  Ed stepped closer and set a hand on Corbett’s shoulder.  “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

“Is that a forfeit?” Harry asked.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Ed said, not really caring.  It was the first time in a long time that he’d lost the snowball fight, but Corbett was injured and was probably going to need help getting into the house.

Corbett pulled away.  “No, it’s fine — you can keep playing.  I can get myself inside.”

“No,” Ed said firmly.  “I’m forfeiting, and we’re going inside for hot chocolate and cookies — Mags, did you bake the cookies last night?”

“Yep!” Maggie said, and she was giving Ed a measuring, considering look.

Ed ignored it, and slid under Corbett’s arm to support his right side, taking most of his weight.  “Come on.  It’s fine.”

Corbett was tense under his touch, but they started to the house.

By the time they got inside, Corbett had relaxed some, and Ed reluctantly let go of him.  Maggie and Harry and Spruce followed them inside and everyone divested themselves of their snow gear.  Ed helped Corbett out of his, letting him use Ed as something to lean on as he took off his thick coat and scarf and hat.

“I, um,” he said, flushing.  “I’m going to need help with my boots.”

Ed nodded.  “Come on.  Couch.”

They made their way over and Corbett sat down, careful not to put any weight on his injured ankle.  Ed kneeled down in front of him, and did his best not to think about how this had to look to everyone else, how weird and intimate it must’ve looked to everyone else in the room.

He carefully took the injured foot in his hands, tugging down the zipper.  “Tell me if I’m hurting you, okay?” he murmured to Corbett, because that’s the last thing he wanted.

“Okay,” Corbett said quietly.

Gently, Ed pulled at the boot.  Corbett flinched, and Ed stilled.  “Sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Corbett replied, shaking his head.  “I don’t think this is something that can be done painlessly.  Please, just get it off.”

Ed nodded and bit his lip.  Corbett was tense as Ed eased the boot off, and Ed couldn’t help himself — he slid a hand around the back of Corbett’s calf and squeezed comfortingly, doing his best to stay friendly about it.  “This better?” he asked softly as the boot came off.

“Y-yes.”  Corbett sounded vaguely discomfited with all of it.  “I’m going to have to ice it, but it’s better to not have it still squeezed into the boot, right?”

“Yeah, you’re right.”  Ed smiled a little, trying to be reassuring, and then moved to take off the other boot, because he was clearly intent on dying tonight.  He got it off much more easily than the other, and he looked up at Corbett.

Corbett was looking down at him with a perplexed expression, and Ed flushed and turned away.

“Thank you,” Corbett mumbled.

“Uh, you’re welcome,” Ed said, standing up.  “So, uh, stay right here, I need to go make the —”

At this point, Maggie moved into the living room, carrying a tray of mugs, each filled with hot chocolate and labeled with the baggies the mixes had been put in.

“God, Mags, you’re a lifesaver,” Ed said, going to take the tray from her.

“Ah-ah, sit down,” Maggie said, shaking her head and elbowing him back toward the couch.  He stumbled and landed right next to Corbett, their shoulders touching — since he’d stumbled over Corbett’s good ankle, there was that, too.

Ed flushed dark and looked away to hide it as Maggie passed out the hot chocolate.

There was a moment of quiet while everyone started in on their drinks, and then Corbett made a  _noise_.

Ed whipped around, because that was not a normal drinking-hot-chocolate noise.  That was totally and completely a sex noise, and Ed had to clamp down hard on the shudder that wanted to run through him.

Corbett blushed bright red, but the damage was done — Ed just wanted to push him back into the couch cushions and see if he could get him to make that noise again.  His brain was slowly shutting down every other process in favor of holding on to the echoes of that noise in his ears, and he couldn’t blame it.

“Um,” Corbett said, putting down the hot chocolate in favor of putting his hands in his lap and looking everywhere but at Ed.  “That was…really good hot chocolate.  Who, uh, who made it?”

“The blends are all Ed,” Maggie said, and Ed could tell that she was smirking on the inside by the tone of her voice. 

Ed was probably going to have to kill her later.

Corbett flushed even darker.  “Oh.  I — uh.”

A surge of hope went through Ed, because people didn’t usually react the way Corbett was reacting.  Maybe that hitch in his voice outside had been real — maybe tis was going to go somewhere, and he’d just been too scared of rejection to do anything.

“No, uh, thanks.  I’ve never — nobody’s ever had quite that reaction to my hot chocolate before?”  He smiled nervously, cheeks burning.

Corbett nodded and looked away.

Harry stood up.  “Okay, obviously you two need to talk.  Maggie, Spruce, let’s relocate to the kitchen to get away from all of this awkward.”

Ed glared at him, stomach churning.  He wasn’t ready for this, and it was clear that Harry had been planning something like this all day. 

Ed was definitely going to kill  _him._

But they left, all three of them, leaving Ed and Corbett alone together on the couch.  Ed didn’t know what to do next, because holy hell, what of Harry was wrong and this was all just a big understanding destined to end in a giant no homo moment?

“I’m so sorry,” Corbett said, his voice small.  “If you’re not comfortable with me, um, I can go.”

“No!” Ed almost yelped, his insides going cold.  “No — don’t go.  Besides, you can’t, um, physically go right now, you’re hurt, it would be a dick move to throw you out now.  Like, that would be really not cool.”

“So, um, you’re okay with me, uh…um.”  Corbett was blushing, still, all down his neck, and Ed wondered how far down that blush went.  “With me, uh, liking you.  A lot.”

“Like, like-liking me?” Ed asked, trying to just clarify, because holy shit, this could change everything.

Corbett looked away again and nodded, like he was afraid of Ed’s reaction.

 _Holy shit_.

“Can I kiss you?” Ed asked, voice shaking a little.

Corbett’s face whipped around, his expression totally gobsmacked, poleaxed, dumbfounded.  Ed had a moment of fear before Corbett nodded again, his lips a little parted.

“Oh thank God,” Ed mumbled, and leaned in, brushing his lips over Corbett’s gently before pulling back.

Corbett was still staring, his eyes a little wide with surprise.  Ed let out a shaky breath and got his face out of Corbett’s to give him space to breathe.

Then Corbett surged forward, mouth landing squarely on Ed’s before his weight tipped Ed back flat on the couch.  Ed gasped at the sensation of being pinned under Corbett – he’d never expected this, and certainly hadn’t known that Corbett would kiss like this.

There was something almost desperate about it, and Ed cupped Corbett’s face in his hands to try and soothe it away, because even if he could, he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry,” Corbett said breathlessly when he broke for air, trying to sit back up.  Ed held him where he was, pressed down against Ed’s chest, because he wasn’t going to make Corbett think this was some kind of mistake on anybody’s part.  

“Don’t worry about it,” Ed said, smiling.  “I wasn’t expecting that, but I like it.  I really like it.”

Corbett nodded, looking shocked again, but this time there was some kind of hope mixed in with it all, and Ed pulled him even closer to start kissing him again.

Suffice to say, the hot chocolate got cold.


End file.
